


Q ‘n’ A Day

by tkbenjamin



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, M/M, NCIS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkbenjamin/pseuds/tkbenjamin
Summary: Sloane loved teaching but she loved teaching lessons more, especially in her own trollish way.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs
Comments: 9
Kudos: 99
Collections: 2020 NCIS Reverse Bang





	Q ‘n’ A Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215506](/gifts?recipient=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F24215506).
  * Inspired by [Art for Q ‘n’ A Day by T.K. Benjamin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215506) by [Red_Pink_Dots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/pseuds/Red_Pink_Dots). 



> Written for NCIS REVERSE BANG 2020.  
> The artwork is by Red_Pink_Dots. Beautiful right?

Dr. Jacqueline Sloane dropped her bag at her podium and ran a suspicious eye over her students. “Well, aren’t you all bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning. And I’d swear I have a full house today. I wonder why?” She mused into her microphone before she gave an off handed shrug and pulled out her lecture notes. “Okay so yesterday we started on the rudimentaries of profiling The Female Serial Killer. Now I have to admit, Female Serial Killers are rare, but not unheard of. If you’ll...Yes Mr Grey, do you have a question regarding the class yesterday?”

The young man dropped his raised arm at her question and cleared his throat nervously. “Professor Sloane. Today is the last day of the semester.”

“Yes Mr. Grey, I am very much aware of that. As such we have a lot to cover before the end of class today so that we can all head off for our long awaited and well earned vacation. So if you don’t have a question, we’ll push on shall we?” Sloane turned her gaze back to her notes and made to begin again.

“But Professor, you promised that on the last day of term you’d answer all our questions about you. You asked us to reserve all our questions until today. You told us on the first day of class, remember?” Grey’s voice was practically beseeching.

Sloane sighed and eyed her class slowly. Finally she licked her lips and pursed them while she closed her notes firmly. “Well, since I promised, I promised. However there will be ground rules. If I find something too personal or private I will tell you so. First rule. Call me Jack. At this point I’m not your Professor, so call me Jack. Now, first question?” ‘Jack’ Sloane looked at her audience and waited. This wasn’t her first rodeo. She did this with her Freshman class every year. Had done so since she’d decided to use her years of experience and credentials to teach the next generation of Criminologists, Profilers, Forensic Pathologists and then some.

“Jack?” A young lady waved.

“Yes Clarissa?” Jack smiled at her. “What did you want to ask?”

“Jack, ah, there are rumours around campus that you were a POW?”

“Well you don’t pull any punches. Short answer is, yes. Next?” She looked around at the open mouthed stares and sighed. “I guess you want the long answer. Okay, yes I was a POW. I was in the Army, in Afghanistan. A group of us were taken. I was the only survivor. Yes I walked away. No, I did not walk away without scars. No, you can not see them. Now, next question.” She walked around to the front of her podium and crossed her arms as she leaned against it. She always wished she’d remembered to have an armchair available for this, but then it would be obvious she was waiting for QnA Day. So she leaned back and waited.

“Jack?”

“Yes Taylo?” She acknowledged the young man in the back row.

“You used to work in law enforcement right? Is there anything you miss from those days?”

Jack gave a sideways grin and moved her head from side to side. Her shoulder-length hair was more grey than blonde these days, but it was thick and long enough to sway around her face. “Now that’s an interesting question. Do I miss those days? A little. It was a crazy time. It was fast paced and dangerous and never ever boring. But that’s not what I miss. I actually miss the people from those days. Seeing them every day. They, we became family. I miss my family.” She looked at her students and watched as they looked at each other. Something was coming, she knew it. Taylo stood up and went to the light switch, turning the lights off, leaving the room dimmed.

She bit back a grin when Nicholas Grey swiped through his Ipad and the large flat screen turned on behind her. She turned to look at it and smiled to herself at the picture that took shape. It was of her. Taken obviously in her NCIS days, judging by her hairstyle, well mainly color since her style hadn’t really changed. She was holding a file and her face read as pissed off.

“Where was this taken?” A voice asked her. 

She kept facing herself as she answered. “This was at NCIS. The Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We covered NCIS already, so you should know what they investigate and who they are. I was a part of their MCRT. Mr. Grey, what does MCRT stand for?” She shot into the crowd behind her. This might be QnA Day, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t a class of some sort.

“Umm, the Major Case Response Team, mam.”

“Very nice, Mr. Grey. Very nice. Next.” She figured most of the questions would come from Nicholas Grey, Taylo Kensi and Clarissa Johanson. She watched the screen and saw the photo change. Two men shaking hands. One from the back, one from the front. She couldn’t remember why the photo was taken but it was rare enough for those two to be in a photo together.

“Jack?” Clarissa asked.

Jack shrugged. “You’ve studied both men in some respects already. Can anyone tell me who you think they are? At least one of them.”

A throat cleared behind her. “Is that NCIS Director Leon Vance? One of the few African American men at the time to hold such a position?”

“Correct Miss Valder, Sasha. That indeed is Former Director Leon Vance. He’s come in to give guest lectures this semester already. So you’ve met him. The other man was, at the time, one of the loneliest men I’d ever met.”

“What was his name?” Clarissa asked.

“Hmm, well. Everyone called him Gibbs, second B’s for bastard. His words not mine. One of the most stubborn men it was my pleasure to meet. It took me forever to break through his walls.”

“Does he do guest lectures? Taylo asked.

Jack burst out laughing. “Hell no, his teaching methods include head slaps. Effective occasionally but definitely unsanctioned in modern teaching establishments. However you have studied some of his cases, and will continue to do so. Next.”

Another picture took shape. This time Gibbs leaning on the back of a truck. The picture split and there sat Gibbs at a table with a carton of milk and a box of cereal.

“Jack, anyone would think you were obsessed with this guy. That photo is obviously taken at home. What gives?” Taylo asked.

“Hmm, well. Obsession with Gibbs, I wouldn’t be the only one. As for the photos, well we were trying to get enough photos for his retirement send off, so everyone he knew was roped into it. The one at home was taken by his best friend Tobias Fornell. The one against his truck by Tony. Gibbs didn’t even know Tony was there and took it. It was taken after Tony left NCIS for Homeland.”

“Gibbs, he doesn’t smile. Not in any of these. Not real smiles. Why?” Clarissa asked.

“You wanna profile Gibbs? Or ask me questions? One thing you should all learn. Do not profile your friends. Even when you can’t help it. They won’t like it. It’s a great way to lose family and friends. Think about it before you show off your training.”

“But that’s what you did, isn’t it? What you, do. Profile and analyse,” Nicholas Grey said and a new picture showed up. Gibbs and her smiling and laughing at each other. “Where was this taken?”

Jack licked her lips and walked to the screen. She raised a hand and ran a finger over Gibbs’ cheek. “This was probably taken at a diner we all went to, close to the yard. It was always so hard to get him to smile. The man wielded heartbreak like a sword and wore heart ache like a shield. Loss was swallowed down with bourbon. Followed by shot after shot of work. Day in day out. Rinse and repeat. Next.”

The picture didn’t change. Instead the screen split to show the previous two pictures of a Gibbs alone alongside the one of the two of them. “What happened?” Grey asked.

Jack turned to face her students again. She waved a hand at the screen. “Nice skills Mr. Grey.”

“Jack, if this is too personal, just tell us,” Clarissa said softly.

Jack Sloane walked across her stage, hands in the pockets of her jacket. “It is personal, but the story isn’t mine to tell. I’ll tell you what I can, and no more. Most of what I’m about to tell you is public record, the rest is, well it’s all about family. So, since you insist. Time for you to do some work. Gibbs is in your database. Look him up and read his dossier.” She turned back to her desk and sat in her chair. She was the teacher after all.

“He was a Marine.” It was a new voice.

“Yes, Jacob. Gibbs was a Marine. I’m sure that explains pretty much everything to you, but for those in the class whose family isn’t career Marine Corps, why don’t you fill them in.”

“Sure Doc Sloane, Jack. Marine runs in my family, my blood. Me too. Enlisted did my tour and was discharged missing a kidney but gaining a purple heart. Marines never retire, never leave the Corps. Once a Marine, always a Marine. Gibbs lost his first wife and daughter while he was on his tour. That’s enough to screw with any man, but for a Marine? It's pure fucked up. We’re taught, trained to fight and protect. To lose a wife and child when you’ve trained so hard to fight and protect. To lose them while you’re fighting to protect some stranger. And half a world away. It's too much. Too much. I’m surprised the man didn’t have a psychotic break or something like that.”

“Thank you Jacob. And you’re right. The death of Gibbs’ family messed him up. He locked himself in limbo from day one. Self flagellation my friends is not limited to Catholics, or Opus Dei.” She wiggled her eyebrows at them and watched them chuckle. 

“What was he like? The first time you met?” Jacob asked.

“Hmm, well he was the most miserable, grumpy closed off son of a bitch I’d ever met, and remember, I was a POW.”

“What did you do?” Clarissa was leaning forward.

“What's any doctor to do? I talked. I opened up, slowly. I gained his respect, very slowly and eventually he started to open up about himself. Tell me, about Gibbs. Give me a, a mini Profile.” She challenged her students and watched them as they scribbled and collaborated their views and ideas about a man they had never met. After a few minutes of furious whispers and note taking Taylo took a deep breath.

“Gibbs could very easily be a sociopath, at least a narcissist. He has a slightly warped sense of justice. Sometimes for him the ends simply justify the means. I, we wouldn’t be surprised if the person responsible for his family’s murder wasn’t dead, somehow. But we speculate. He wears pain as martyr and protection. He can’t be hurt if he doesn’t let anyone close. And if someone gets close then he’s gonna get hurt. He lived in a self fulfilling prophecy. He wasn’t a man who’d listen to someone that hadn’t suffered. At least something akin to his own suffering. He’s a man whose respect has to be earned. If you haven’t done at least half of what he has then he’s going to disregard you. Paper qualifications mean nothing to him. Experience is everything. He has an almost God complex. Losing his family meant he had nothing left to lose. He didn’t become a serial killer by the grace of god and very little else. The leap from good man to self righteous vigilante would have been less than an inch. At another day and time we could have been profiling him as a criminal instead of a law enforcement legend. How did you change him, and why?”

“Well, well, well. I think I can see group profiling in your future classes. Down and dirty profiling with a time limit. I like it.” Jack grinned at her class, allowing it to morph into a shark-like smile when she heard them groan. She wiggled her eyebrows again and stood from her chair. She dragged it out front and turned it around so she could straddle it and leaned her arms across the back. “How did I change him?” She sighed. “I can’t really take that credit. All I did was open eyes that had been closed for far too long.” She leaned her chin on her hands and lay her head sideways, wearing a tiny grin on her face. “When I first went to the DC NCIS, Gibbs treated me the way he treated all shrinks, as he called anyone in this line of work. Actually the only doctor he respected was Dr. Donald Mallard, Ducky, and that was mainly because of their shared past. So it was respect earned through time. Well as you can guess my relationship with Gibbs in the beginning was, strained, to say the least. Then something happened. I never asked why or how but Gibbs didn’t know about my past as a POW. Maybe he hadn’t been listening or wasn’t briefed or hell, maybe he just hadn’t believed it. Anyway my past came out and I saw a glimmer of respect. Eventually we talked. I told him about me. He told me about himself. We had similar losses, of a kind anyway. 

“But we talked, and kept talking. The man is a flirt, and so, am, I. So yes we flirted and flirted. God did we flirt. But that is Gibbs. He’s a man of his time. Women of a certain age are considered romantic partners, younger ones are pseudo daughters. That’s his generation, what can I say? And in this career you have to take age and generation and when someone grew up into account. Your generation doesn’t see things the same way as someone of Gibbs’ age. For example, most of you don’t blink twice seeing your classmate with a same sex lover. But for his generation, that was hidden. One hid ones sexuality if it wasn’t heterosexual and vanilla. 

“As we talked and flirted, Gibbs started to drop his sword and shield, or maybe I just worked my way under them so I got to see the real him. The man hiding and slowly dying because he was being suffocated. Gibbs was suffocating himself and I had to figure out why and how to stop it, because at the end of the day this man had become my friend and a friend I cared for deeply and could rely on. 

“At one point I thought about digging into his past, beyond what I’d already had access to for work. I wanted to know. Beyond even as a Profiler. I had the resources at my fingertips. I could research Gibbs and find all his dirty little secrets. If I did that however I would lose. Had I researched the man, he would have seen that as a breach of trust and he would have frozen me out. So I waited and worked with the man. Held him back when he needed it. Gave him a push when it was required. Held his metaphorical hand when he asked and gave him a shoulder to cry on when he wanted one. 

“And I allowed him to do the same for me. Understanding a man like Gibbs is not easy. It is not quick. It is labour and strife. It is blood and sweat. It is worth the effort. But I have to admit, had I had anything else important in my life at the time I doubt I’d have made the effort, and I would have been poorer for it. I hadn’t even realised I’d made the breakthrough. It was Tony, it was his fault ultimately I’d realised the breakthrough had been made. 

“Gibbs was retiring. We needed photos. We did not have photos. So everyone that knew Gibbs was recruited to find photos or take them. Fornel had unfettered access to Gibbs home, don’t ask me why, but I suspect Fornel and his daughter see Gibbs as a second father to her. Fornel actually married Gibbs’ ex-wife, so it sort of makes sense. Anyway he’d taken that photo a while before and sent it to me, because somehow I’d ended up being the photo collection service. I didn’t think anything of it, just filed it away. Over the months the photos came in and they got filed. And then Tony comes in one day with a thumb drive. I plugged it in and all these photos popped up. I’d asked Tony to get me a coffee so I was going through the photos when he came back. I remember remarking on how many he had. I remember asking if he was stalking Gibbs. He just hummed and whistled his way out of my office. I didn’t think about it right then. I had work to do after all. I wasn’t paid to organise parties. 

“A month or so later we got word that someone had put a price on Agent DiNozzo and I saw a Gibbs I’d never seen. I saw the sociopathic vigilante, or at least the glimmer of a tendency. He left the office after a few phone calls and no one saw him for a week. When he came back he was a little weathered but physically fine. But mentally he was a mess. His eyes were haunted and as much as his body was there, his mind was not. I gave it a couple of days then turned up at his house after work. We were either going to fight it out, talk it out or fuck it out. The odds were even on which one it would be from my side of things. I wasn’t sure which but my friend was hurting. My family was hurting and I had to do something about it. Suffice it to say we did not end up in bed, but we did get drunk and I learned a few things I hadn’t known. He opened up on what had happened and I hazarded a guess as to why he had gotten involved. 

“DiNozzo had been MCRT, before my time, but once you’re a part of Gibbs' team you are always family. So write this down oh pupils of mine, for a character like the man we are profiling, he will not have any more family members taken from him if he can stop it. That includes placing himself in danger or even going to jail. There are no half measures. He told me what he’d done and that is classified. But the danger was dealt with and DiNozzo was safe, for a while anyway. The man’s a pure trouble magnet.” Jack got up and walked to her bag. After a second she pulled out a bottle of water and took a long drink.

“But Jack,” Grey spoke up. “That still doesn’t explain how he went from alone and lonely to laughing with you.”

“Oh that’s simple kid. She told me to get my head out of my ass and face myself and what I wanted.” The gruff voice came from the doorway. A man with silver hair and well trimmed beard stood there, leaning against the jamb.

“Hey you’re-but-how? We thought you were dead? That’s why we can study your dossier and do a profile.” Grey spluttered.

“Well where’s the fun in that. You’d never know if you were right. Aren’t you teaching these kids anything Jack?” Gibbs asked as he strode to the stage.

“Oh well, you know, I try,” she shrugged, then kissed his cheek when he reached her. “You heard what they profiled, why don’t you fill them in Gibbs.”

“If you say so. Your profile of me wasn’t wrong. Can be a bit hard to hear, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. I am a narcissist. I am egotistical. I am stubborn and headstrong. I always think I’m right and I don’t have a lot of patience. I also love fiercely and forever. I still love my first wife. I will never forget her or my daughter. I was a complete bastard to my other wives and I knew it, but couldn’t stop myself. I punished myself for living and moving on. Then I went ahead and made myself and everyone around me miserable.” Gibbs took Jack’s chair and straddled it like she had.

“But something changed. What? How?” Taylo asked.

Gibbs looked at Jack and smiled. “Your Doc there. She held up a mirror and made me look. Jack’s experiences weren’t too dissimilar to mine. But she didn’t wallow in them like I did. She got up and moved on. Became more. Got stronger. Grew better. Moved on to live a life instead of wallowing in self pity and a half life. She made me talk. Didn’t give me a choice but it never felt that way. Your teacher can probably manipulate an angel, and I ain't no angel. But at the end of the day, she made me trust her and didn’t betray that trust. She held her ground and demanded my respect and friendship. And I’m a better man for it. If it hadn’t been for her I wouldn’t have what I have now. Questions!” 

“I think you scared them Gibbs,” Sloane chuckled. She looked at her audience. Many of them were wide eyed. A hand came up slowly. “Yes Sam.”

“If Agent Gibbs is alive, why are we allowed to study his cases?”

“Well you don’t study all my cases. Just the ones that don’t fall under the classified tag. And you’re allowed to study those cases and me because I am still alive and you can see living proof of your theory. I can prove or disprove your hypothesis, your Profile. I’m a living breathing test for your abilities and how much you’ve learned.” Gibbs scratched at his beard.

“Wait a second,” Grey exclaimed. “Professor Sloane, Jack, you set us up. The QnA Day is all a set up into making us Profile a living human being, Gibbs. It’s all a test isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Sloane asked innocently. “Perhaps it is. But I didn’t make you break into my office and copy my private photographs. Really I should report you to, umm security, I guess. Now.” she clapped her hands and looked at the clock. “Now class ended a few minutes ago, which means we are all on semester break. Get out of here and start your vacation. I know I can’t wait to start mine.” She grinned at Gibbs who grinned back and stood up.

He walked to her desk and grabbed the suitcase from under it. She wiggled her eyebrows at her students' groans as they understood how well they’d been set up. She’d left her suitcase there before any of her students had gotten to class. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Where are you going Jack?” Clarissa called out.

Sloane looked to Gibbs.

“We’re sailing to Hawaii.” He shrugged.

“You hired a boat?” Clarissa questioned, her gaze moving between the two of them.

“My boat. The Family.” Gibbs answered.

“Nice catch Jack. He’s hot and has his own boat.” Grey spoke up.

“Actually he built the boat. And Gibbs isn’t my catch. There’s the one that caught him,” Jack pointed behind them to the man leaning against the same door jamb Gibbs had used.

“Oh they are even younger than Probies. Well folks. You’ve studied Gibbs cases from NCIS this semester. Next semester you’ll study some of my cases from Homeland. The name is DiNozzo. I’m retired and talked LJ there into being my very well kept man. But we’ll go further into that next time. Now Jack’s husband is waiting for us in the car and vacation time has officially started.” He flashed everyone a bright grin and ushered Jack and Gibbs out of the classroom.

“Wait.” A voice called and they all turned to look. Grey swiped through his Ipad and a new photo appeared on the screen. It was of Jack and Gibbs grinning madly. “This photo. Explain this photo.”

DiNozzo smiled and took the hand Gibbs offered him. “I took that photo about a year after LJ retired. It was at our wedding. Jack was our Mistress of Ceremonies and wedding organiser. She was the most important woman there, because if it wasn’t for her, LJ would still have been trapped in his own little hell and I’d never have been able to get through to him, to convince him it was okay to be happy and alive.” He sighed when Gibbs kissed his knuckles then he was pulling DiNozzo out the door.

Professor Jacquiline Sloane looked at her students. “See you next semester. Have a great and safe vacation.” She waved, smiled and followed her found family out to the car waiting for them.   



End file.
